


Mostly Superstition

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles AU's [14]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform, Less story more question answering, Vampire Astrid AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: She's centuries old and lonelier than she cares to admit. After she decides to save the life of a dying human, Astrid is surprised to find she's not so lonely anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Mostly Superstition**

****

**whispering-brook wondered: I was reading through all of your werewolf AU because, Ya know, it is possibly the best thing ever. And I came across the vampires vs werewolf vote. Now I am curious as to what would have been in it? Also curious about HOW the vampire smut would have been like.You made your own twist on the werewolves and it works REALLY well, but what would have been your twist on vampires? Would it be the burning in the sun or the sparkling?That kind of thing. (I am not comparing you to twilight.I'm not mean.)**

Over a hundred million copies sold worldwide? Comparing me to Twilight would be a compliment in my book. 

I had almost forgotten that the werewolf au started with the werewolf/vampire vote! I don’t like combining fantasies, so I didn’t want to do both, but I’m really glad the poll swung the way it did. Really when I sit down to do drabbles I don’t start with anything really in mind. I get the prompt, stretch out my hands, and then expel metaphoric finger-vomit all over the page. So literally as I’m typing these words, I have no idea what I would do with a vampire au. But sit tight. When I did the werewolf drabble, I was expecting to finish it and be done. I didn’t like it, and I definitely didn’t think I’d ever be adding on to it. It’s my followers and friends asking questions and encouraging me and sharing their headcanons that really transforms my finger-vomit into legitimately awesome plotlines that I enjoy building on.

SO. Vampire au. Let’s go— I’ll show you the thought process. We worked with Hiccup in the werewolf world, so let’s jump on the Astrid train for a little while. Astrid Hofferson: lady of the night, drinker of blood and… avid jogger? Definitely want to do modern— again, I don’t like to mix fantasies, so putting canon dragons with vampires is neh. We’ll put them in college again, since you’re mentioning the smutty aspect of the au request. Sex between minors makes me feel squirmy and awkward. 

So I like the idea of Astrid being this dark and sultry vampire mistress during the wee hours of morning. She wears short, sequined dresses with stilettos and curls her hair. Wears red lipstick and lures young men away from the club to feed in the back alleys. But when she first rolls out of her coffin (kidding. bed with blackout shades.) around eight pm, she throws her hair in a ponytail, tugs on worn old sweatpants, and goes running. I adore the idea of her having this glamorous and also absurdly normal double life. Like, she has this beautifully decorated apartment done in rich golds and accented with ancient weapons/armor she’s collected over the years. But she also has this secret stash of infomercial products that she keeps buying because the Magic Bullet commercial is the only thing on at four in the morning when she gets home and unwinds.

So, her vampirism. I see her being born in France during the eighteenth century, right around the French Revolution. She would’ve been poor, her family merely part of the starving masses. Knowing Astrid, she probably would’ve hated sitting back and letting her father do the fighting for her family. She’d probably be rioting in the streets or aiding with a protest when a vampire finds her. I don’t see a dude biting her (like Astrid’s gonna let a creepy dude seduce her while she’s trying to fight for her basic human rights)— definitely a female tired of the conflict/hedonism of men and the vilifying of women. Ladyvamp (Heather, maybe?) would admire her fierceness, and she’d take her on as sort of a pet. Then after a century or so, Astrid would go her own way. 

_Most_ of the vampire myths are untrue. She can and sometimes does go to churches. Crosses don’t bother her, neither does holy water (is that a vampire thing? or just demons?). She can see herself in a mirror perfectly fine, and she doesn’t turn into a bat. Garlic _does_ make her a little ill, as does sunlight. The longer she’s exposed to the sun, the sicker she gets. It’s not exactly “burning”, but UV rays definitely attack the vampire venom that keeps her body’s tissues from rotting. Her flesh is just a little cooler than 98.6. Not ice cold, but maybe like she’s just come inside from a windy fall afternoon. When she feeds, she prefers to do so during sex-like situations. Not an uncommon theme in vampire tales. Her bite doesn’t hurt too much, and it heals immediately after. The proteins in her saliva screw with the nervous system and make the victims kind of blurry on what occurred. If they’re already drunk, it usually just gets written off as having one too many. They don’t remember her after. 

So where does our beloved Hero come into this tale? Well, we can go with the idea that if Astrid runs/jogs every night around the same time. Hiccup also happens to get off of work at the garage around eight, so he’s usually home around eight thirty and taking Toothless for a walk around nine. They don’t always intersect, Astrid and Hiccup, but they pass each other enough that she recognizes him as dude-with-the-dog and he knows her as gorgeous-blonde-who-never-looks-his-way.

Then one night she wakes up late. She’s listless, tired of the usual routine. She has coworkers at the bar she occasionally tends, but no real friends. Her bird, Stormfly, is the only one she has regular conversations with. So she mopes about her apartment for awhile, not really wanting to go running, not really wanting to go hunting. Eventually she decides around eleven that she wants a drink. She can digest normal food and drink perfectly fine— the blood she drinks keeps her tissues “alive” more than it does really act as a sustenance— but she doesn’t require it. But she decides to throw on her coat and walk to the college bar a few blocks from her place. She’s about halfway there when she starts to smell blood on the breeze.

Alarmed, she starts chasing the scent. After about a mile, she comes across a kind of wooded area of the street, with a little bit of a sharp turn in the road. The asphalt stinks of burned rubber and there are tire marks on the street. She smells gas. When she gets closer, she realizes that there’s a motorcycle half lying in a ditch on the other side of the shoulder. Concerned, Astrid rushes over and finds dude-with-the-dog bleeding and unconscious, crushed beneath his bike. At first, she’s not really shocked— she’s seen plenty of violence and death over the years. She slowly lowers herself to his side, leaning over him and pushing the heavy motorcycle aside (superhuman strength ftw). His arm has an awful road rash— most of the skin from his elbow has been shaved off, and Astrid can’t resist. She lifts his hand to her face and begins lapping up the blood dripping from his wound. The taste is hot and and sweet and little smoky on her tongue. He tastes _good_. There’s a puddle of blood pooling around his mangled left leg, and she uses her hand to scoop mouthfuls of it to her lips. He’ll probably die anyways. Might as well drink before all that blood goes cold.

But then he stirs. Through the haze of pain, Hiccup opens his eyes to see a vaguely familiar face kneeling over him. Blood covers her hands, her arms, her face, her blouse. He’s not sure what’s going on— all he remembers is swerving to miss the red truck that was veering into his lane and then a lot of pain and noise. He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness, cold and by himself whenever he wakes. But he sees large blue eyes, shiny blonde waves reflecting a glow that he doesn’t realize is the yellow-orange of a distant streetlight. A white dress that flutters in the wind, making little sounds like birds’ wings. She might be making hungry noises as she licks the red from his fingers, small details, but he’s not alone. Somebody’s with him. 

“H-hey,” he rasps, his voice barely louder than a whisper. 

Astrid freezes. She wasn’t expecting him to wake. When she shifts her gaze to his face, he’s looking up at her with heavy-lidded green eyes. He’s clearly not completely lucid, and he’s already lost a ton of blood. And he’s seen her drinking it. Her survival instincts instantly kick in, telling her that she has to kill him now. She has to end him, just in case. But he’ll never live through this, another part of her says. 

“Y’know,” the guy-with-the-dog swallows painfully. “I didn’t— didn’t believe in angels. S-sounded kind of cheesy.” Every word sounds like he has to swallow knives to speak. He’s definitely out of it, definitely hallucinating. She’s not sure if he’s hitting on her or if he really thinks he’s seeing an angel. 

Since she doesn’t know how to reply, she just says, “You’ve been in an accident.”

There’s red between his teeth when he smiles weakly. “I can’t… can’t move. I’m dying, right?”

Astrid tilts her head at him. There’s a sadness in his eyes, even though he’s smiling. She thinks of the black lab that always tugs at the end of his leash, barking and panting and trying to drag his owner along. The dog always looks cheerful and friendly, and the guy is usually talking to him and laughing while they walk. Who will take care of the dog if this boy dies? Is there somebody else who’ll go on walks with him? How long will he wait for his owner before he realizes he won’t be coming home? What about family— who else will miss this boy?

“Yeah,” she breathes. 

His head dips just a fraction in a stilted kind of nod. “At least— least you’re here. Not alone. Not alone.” His breaths are starting to sound a little wheezy. His lashes flutter as his eyes slip closed again, and then he goes quiet. He’s gone again. 

And Astrid’s sitting there in puddles of his blood, hands numb at her sides, staring at his unconscious face. Why is there a little panic fluttering in a heart that can’t beat? He’s so grateful to simply have her by his side, he doesn’t even complain about the unfair loss of an unfulfilled life. His words resound in her hollow chest— not alone… not alone… She’s never given much credit to the idea that there’s a reason for everything, but suddenly she’s wondering if there is. 

She starts fumbling for her bag, pouring it out in the dark grass and feeling blindly for her phone. Her hands shake as she calls for an ambulance, and her voice is trembling— almost cracking— when she requests help for a boy with extensive wounds. 

“Please hurry,” she begs, licking her lips and looking up to the street for any passing streetlights. “There’s a lot of blood." _So_ much blood. After she hangs up, she hesitates. But then she gropes for his left knee, finding the worst of his wound and squeezing tight just above where the flesh is shredded and twisted. For almost fifteen minutes she sits there trying to staunch the blood that entices her senses so sweetly. When the ambulance arrives and lights are casting them in bright white clarity, she’s covered in his blood, from head to toe. 

She accompanies him to the hospital, sitting in the florescent lights of the ambulance while EMTs work to save him. It’s completely baffling, nothing like what she planned on doing when she first came across him in the ditch. But now she’s panicked and desperate to save him for some reason. She gives nurses her name, phone number, and address, follows his stretcher all the way to the operating rooms’ waiting area. Everything goes by in a blur, and suddenly she finds herself standing in the middle of a white-washed hospital covered in red smears and grass stains. Her nose detects blood everywhere, setting her on edge and making her antsy and restless. She doesn’t even know the name of the guy she brought to safety, only that he walks a black dog along her jogging route. They found an ID in his wallet, and they were supposed to be tracking down his next of kin in case… in case. They’d asked her if she wanted to wait, to stay with him, and she’d said yes. But now she’s coming to, realizing that she doesn’t understand why she did anything she did. And she turns on her heel and walks out of the hospital. 

She refuses to think about it. A couple of times over the next week or so, she thinks about checking the news websites for a story about a young motorcyclist’s death, but she denies herself the curiosity. She talks to her bird and goes to work and feeds at clubs in short skirts and tall heels. She gives herself time to forget all about the boy who nearly bled out on the side of the road. 

And then one night he shows up at her door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Anonymous wondered: Okay I absolutely love both the werewolf AU and that piece you explain about the vampire side of things. Yet, the vampire thing has opened up my curiosity, so I must ask. (I'm sorry if you don't want to talk about something you haven't properly written :S ) So Hiccup shows up at her house and that is left open to interpretation, but I would love it if you would tell me how he turns or if he turns into a vampire? Thank you so much!**

I don’t mind you asking at all! I really actually enjoyed playing with Vampire!Astrid, I just don’t have time to properly extrapolate on anything while I’m working on Wild Hearts (it _is_ coming, I promise— tomorrow night, if not earlier). But I had it on the mind all day through work yesterday, so yeah, I totally don’t mind going on. Kinda glad you asked. 

Basically Hiccup wakes up in the ICU after his accident one foot short and hopped up on meds. Everything’s kind of hazy, but Stoick’s there, and his friends are in the waiting room. He’s got several broken ribs, a dislocated elbow, an amputated leg, and other various bumps and bruises. His memories come back to him slowly— taking his bike to an on-campus event, driving back late, swerving, and then pain. And he remembers an angel, blonde and familiar and luminous. 

He’s definitely not turned. Astrid never bit him, and he didn’t drink her blood in return. Usually when she feeds, her saliva makes contact with her victims’ bloodstream and fuzzies their memories of her. But she forgets that she never bit him— her saliva never reached his bloodstream. So he wakes up remembering her, and his dad thinks it’s the drugs that starts him rambling about angels and white dresses. He asks about her, demanding to know more, and Stoick’s like, “Uhhh.” But then one of his nurses overhears him talking about her, and she’s all, “You must be talking about the young lady who found you.”

So while Astrid is trying to _forget_ the entire incident, Hiccup is doing everything in his power to find her. Everybody thinks he’s crazy, trying to find this mysterious angel chick, but it’s the only thing that keeps him from losing his mind while he’s stuck in the hospital. He asks receptionists about her, doctors, even asks someone to talk to the EMTs who worked the night of his accident. They have her information but they’re not supposed to give it to him. All they’ll say is that the girl who called the ambulance wouldn’t stop asking questions— if he was going to be alright, if the foot could be saved, what would happen to him, etc etc— and that she waited for a little while but then left before his surgery was over. The doctors are checking his bandages and he’s asking if anyone got her name. They set him up with a prosthetist and he’s asking how soon he can be up and around, ready to figure out _where_ he knows that familiar face from. He’s anxious to be out of bed and searching for her. 

And then he’s being discharged from the hospital and they’re wheeling him down to the main floor and one of his nurses calls for him and Stoick to wait. She leans down to give him a hug and wish him well, and as she does so, she slips him a piece of paper and winks. His dad starts pushing him again, and then as the elevator doors close on them, he opens up the paper and sees a name, address, and phone number. 

It’s still a while before he can find her, though. A facebook search for her name pulls up a handful of people, but nobody who matches the ethereal girl from his memories. He starts to wonder if maybe he’s imagined the whole thing, if the person who found him is really a middle-aged woman he never even saw and the girl was just a hallucination. It takes him another week before his new leg arrives, and he can only wear it for a few hours at a time— no walking on it just yet. He tries to talk Fishlegs into driving him to the address, just to see if she’s the right person, but Legs won’t do it. Stoick insists that he stay put, that he focus on healing and working with his physical therapist. His impatience drives him crazy. The address is only a block from his apartment. 

Finally, they leave him alone for a while, and he has to know. He shrugs into actual clothes, wincing as he struggles into a shirt and eases his injured arm into a jacket. He thinks about taking the wheelchair, but he’s not sure his arm’ll last pushing himself an entire block. So he takes the crutch he’s been using to move short distances by himself and attaches his prosthesis. Then, being the stubborn little shit he is, Hiccup hobbles/limps the entire block over to Astrid’s apartment and knocks. 

She is, of course, stunned to see him. And he’s pretty sure he’s looking at the sun. As soon as he sees her, though, looking like she just woke up from a nap, he places her. With her hair in a messy ponytail and a loose tank top, she jogs his memory and he remembers her as the girl he occasionally passes on Toothless’ walking route. 

“You’re the girl,” he says in amazement, almost to himself, “the angel.”

At first, she can’t say anything. She’s shocked, but there’s also a small part of her that’s examining him, evaluating his injuries. Her eyes scan over the yellow-ish green bruises at his temple, the sling restraining his right arm. He’s a little out of breath and leaning on a single crutch. There’s a shoe covering his left foot, and she’s surprised. It’d been crushed and mangled last she’d seen it. It has to be a prosthetic.

Then she finally finds her tongue. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

He doesn’t want to incriminate the nurse, so he just shrugs sheepishly. “Someone at the hospital gave me your information. I wanted to meet you, to thank you personally.”

Astrid lifts a hand to her mouth, biting her nails in a nervous habit. Hiccup suddenly gets a flash of her features relaxed in rapture as she licks blood from her fingers. His smile falls. It’s the first time that image has risen to the surface of his subconscious, and he tries to write it off as a side effect of the anesthesia and painkillers that were running rampant in his systems that night.

Basically she sends him off, brushing him off and telling him she doesn’t want him to thank her. No matter how much Hiccup tries to talk to her, she’s distant and distracted. He’s discouraged, but his insatiable curiosity has been satisfied. She’s rattled.

A couple of weeks later, the twins and Snot drag him out to a bar to celebrate his physical therapist switching him to a cane. He spots Astrid in the crowd, and the twins are able to tell him that she’s a regular at a few of the places they frequent. She looks impossibly different in the dim lighting, with dark lashes and long pale legs. Even though she doesn’t see him at first, she can smell him as soon as he walks in. She recognizes that smoky sweet tang in his blood and it makes her thirstier remembering that taste. When she actually sees him, though, he’s surrounded by a small group of friends. She tries to dip out, but he catches up to her and introduces himself officially. Then he drags her over to meet the gang. She’s totes uncomfortable and hungry and she just wants to shake this guy so she can find a victim and feed. But the twins want to hear the gory details of the accident. Fish wants to talk about how crazy it is that they live just a block apart and always saw each other before the accident without knowing it. And Snot just wants to hit on her. Bad. 

Eventually she kind of rudely excuses herself and turns on her heel to leave. She shoves through the crowd until she gets outside and starts walking home, thirsty and frustrated and annoyed. Hiccup chases after her, unbeknownst to her, and when he finally catches up to her, she snaps. Thinking he’s a mugger or a rapist, she turns on him with a snarl and shoves him against the wall. She sinks her fangs into him, and it’s only when the sweet taste of his blood flows onto her tongue and she hears his pained/pleasured hiss that she realizes what she’s done. But she’s too starving to stop herself. 

Hiccup’s cane clatters to the ground as she drags him into the shadows. Her hands dip under his shirt, tracing the indents of his stomach and ribs with her fingertips. Her saliva instantly starts to take effect, and he relaxes into her rough embrace, even snaking his hands around her waist. Her lips latch onto his throat, lipstick and blood smearing against pale, stubbled skin. She shoves her hips against his, and Hiccup is surprised to find that when he’s forced to put his weight on his bad leg, he doesn’t feel the pain. He’s baffled, dazed, aroused. He hears her lapping noises, the little sounds of hungry pleasure she’s making, and he’s once again struck by the image of her licking her fingers over his body. 

His hands smooth down her backside, crushing her against him even as he feels his instincts bordering on alarm. Astrid twists, grinding against him, pressing her breasts into his chest and tangling her fingers in his hair. It sweetens the blood, his adrenaline, desire making him intoxicating and impossible to pull away from. She lifts her head, gasping for air, and then for some inexplicable reason, he ducks to capture her mouth against his. It makes her moan a sigh past his lips, and she squirms against the beginnings of a hard arousal against her hip. He whispers her name— something none of her anonymous victims are ever capable of doing— and she jerks to reality. She remembers where she is and who she’s with. Not a stranger. Someone who knows her name, her information. And she’s starting to drink too much. 

So she pulls back, leaning her forehead against his collar bone and swearing under her breath. Using her thumb to wipe the blood from his neck, she feels the skin and muscle knit back together. 

“I have to take you back to your friends,” she whispers, swallowing hard. Her skin is thrumming, every part of her vibrating and pulsing for more, but she has to resist. 

“I’m fine,” Hiccup replies, but when she stands, he sways on his feet. 

“Please forget about this,” she murmurs anxiously, picking up his cane and handing it to him. She lets him lean on her, and she tries her hardest to remember how to glamour humans. She hasn’t needed to in so long. “Please forget about me.”

He grunts, still a little woozy from the effects of her DNA. “Not on your life.”

She cringes. Afterlife.


	3. Chapter 3

**Anonymous wondered: I loved your last Werecup story, I loved Astrid's shock and disbelief. I especially liked how she focused on the glass of water as though it was a life line to her sanity; that was really well done. I do have a question about the other AU that Werecup spawnd; How does Hiccup find out that Vampstrid is a well... you know and how does he react?**

Hiccup actually puts it together pretty quick. He’s a smart, stubborn little cookie. He can’t get the image of her from the night of his accident out of his head— this glowing, ethereal girl with his blood smeared across her hands and face. Then in the alley, he knows something happened. He remembers a little pain, a lot of pleasure, and then Astrid anxiously whispering, “Please forget about this.” It comes in flashes and weak strands of memories, but he knows something about her is off. He doesn’t necessarily think vampire right away, but he knows she’s weird. He even tells her that he knows she’s not normal, and he tells her that it doesn’t matter to him. She saved his life, so he’s not going to do anything to endanger her.

As much as she tries to avoid him, she finds this aggravating human irritatingly charming. He shows up at her work place, and she takes Toothless jogging with her a few times since Hiccup can’t currently walk very well. But there’s this undeniable attraction between them because of the blood she’s taken from him— it’s literally in her tissues, a part of her body, and it only draws her to him more and more.

I could see him working with his new prosthesis and still being a little clumsy walking without his cane. She lets him in her apartment for just a few minutes while she’s getting ready for an evening church service, and she’s getting dressed when she hears a bang and a swear from the living room. The scent of fresh blood hits the air, and she turns the corner to see Hiccup checking his hand after tripping and slamming it into her coffee table. It’s not much— just a little scrape, but it makes her inhale sharply, and he notices. Her hand goes to her throat, her eyes darken. She takes a nervous step back and wets her lips. He slowly pushes back to his feet, watching her carefully as he makes a comment about his cane and asks for a paper towel or something.

He’s very perceptive. Smart. He dabs away the blood and tries to make awkward conversation, but she’s suddenly gone stiff. This is different than her usual standoffishness, and she can’t look away from his cut. So he steps closer, watches her fidget. Astrid fiddles nervously with the pearls at her throat, just barely maintaining a sense of self restraint. Then, in a moment of morbid curiosity, he extends his hand toward her and hesitantly jokes, “Did you want to kiss it better?”

I really do apologize, I don’t intend on getting this distracted by these AUs, but when stories call…

Astrid grabs his hand a little too tightly and a little too quickly, embarrassed for a brief second by her eagerness. She tries to move slowly, normally, but she brings his palm to her lips and gently kisses the scrape. The scent curls into her nostrils, making her suppress a whimper. Her tongue darts out, laving across the base of his thumb, and Hiccup almost instantly feels the effects of her saliva hitting his blood stream. His breathing turns heavy, his knees go weak, and he’s backing towards her couch as she’s tightening her grip on his fingers. He can see the craving in her eyes, sense her hunger in the way she sucks at his palm.

Then his bad leg gives out and he trips backwards onto the couch. It jerks his hand from her grasp, and she’s standing there looking dismayed and a little out of it. Hiccup looks from his tingling palm to her face and then just mumbles, “Vampire.”

And then, of course, Astrid panics. Crawls onto his lap and bites him, already thinking through her alibi, her escape plan, her disposal of his body. But he’s so responsive beneath her, pressing his hips up into her instead of fighting her off. He whispers her name, and it’s like the voice of her conscience prodding her as she drinks. He keeps making little noises of pleasure, trying to tell her he wants to discuss this, admitting this is weirding him out but feels so good, asking questions of her. She murmurs from him to keep talking, because it’s the only thing keeping her from killing him. And then she’s tugging up her skirt, unbuckling his belt. He’s making sarcastic, clueless commentary that makes her laugh into his neck. And then his wandering hands are distracting her from drinking— her mouth is busied by kisses and moans. She knows this is crazy, that she should kill him and get ready to leave town, but she feels happy for once. Amused and sincere and alive. So she decides that— just until she gets bored— she’ll keep him.


	4. Chapter 4

**acoupleofbravedorks wondered: With Halloween having came and went, got two questions regarding the Vampire Astrid AU. First, how might the two spend the holiday? Secondly, do you have any ideas regarding Astrid's origins, how she became a vampire and such?**

I’m so happy you like the vampire AU– I’ve been weirdly fond of it lately. 

The holidays are actually something I’ve thought a lot about in this AU. Hiccup is always trying to humanize Astrid, to bring him into his life and his family and his friend group. She manages to convince him that inviting a vampire over for Thanksgiving is just a couple brain cells shy of idiocy, but she’s not able to talk him out of Christmas. She drags him to a Christmas Eve service at church– and I don’t know why this picture is so clear in my head, but I love the idea of her in a bun and pearls, all proper like, and Hiccup next to her in grease-stained jeans and a leather jacket. And then he insists she come over Christmas day. 

“It’s just me and my dad all morning,” he insists. “My godfather might stop by. And then my friends and I do pizza and exchange gifts.”

So she really really _really_ doesn’t think it’s a good idea to get so involved in this human’s life, especially if she ends up accidentally killing him one day. But she obliges, and she’s greeted by Stoick with a crushing hug. She’s the one who saved his son’s life, after all. Astrid hadn’t even considered it, but Stoick’s falling all over himself to fix her cocoa, get her an afghan, wait on her hand and foot. Every now and then she’ll watch the father and son tease back and forth, and she’ll think that maybe she did the right thing in saving him after all. The same thing kind of happens when Gobber comes over, more bear hugs and fawning. It actually embarrasses her a little, how much they seem to adore her. 

It’s easier with Hiccup’s friends, who she’s met a couple times before. They end up in her bar sometimes, and once in a blue moon she’ll join them for a night out at Hiccup’s behest. She’s usually quiet, though she likes adding the occasional jab at Hiccup’s obnoxious, hyper-masculine cousin when he makes some misogynistic or generally offensive statement. She and Fishlegs get along really well, and he can usually lure her into a rousing history discussion. The twins are the ones she most runs into when she’s out clubbing, which she does less now that she has to hunt less. But she’s still nervous around them, because she always wonders what they might see or have seen. It doesn’t help that Tuffnut’s a zombie apocalypse enthusiast, always talking about people getting eaten. Ruff’s not so bad, but she’s got a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Snotlout that brings her entire sense of judgement into question. They’re both kind of unpredictable, and that always unnerves Astrid a little. Sometimes she’ll slide them a free shot when she’s bartending, just to stay on their good side. 

But on the whole, the gang likes her pretty well. And they have a tradition of getting take out on Christmas for their little get-togethers. They’ve all been friends since they were little kids, something Astrid can’t even imagine, and she watches them banter and laugh and bond with a kind of ache in her chest. Watching them trade presents, tussle Hiccup’s hair, make jokes about his nerdiness or his one-leggedness– it makes her feel so torn. She doesn’t belong here with them, in this kind of warmth. She’s a creature of death and blood. Will she even be in the same city as them next year? Would they hate her if they knew what she was? What if she accidentally kills Hiccup– they would mourn him so fiercely. And then she’ll feel his calloused hand squeeze her own, and she’ll look over to find his eyes smiling at her over the rim of his beer. And even though her heart hasn’t beat in centuries, she’ll feel it kind of flutter. Maybe this could work, if only for a little while. Maybe she should just allow herself to be happy tonight, for the sake of Christmas. 

So yeah, I have a lot of feelings about Vampstrid and the holidays.

I mentioned Astrid’s origins a little bit in the original post. She was born and raised as a human during the French Revolution. Very poor, but impassioned and bold. Very ahead of her time so far as feminism, and always at the front of any protest or fight. The violence of the time draws the attention of a few vampires, Heather being one of them. It’s kind of a predatory thing– so much bloodshed in the city mean that nobody looks too deeply into a dead body here and there, but the vampires begin to fight over territory. Heather begins thinking that she needs a helper of sorts, and Astrid’s fierceness draws her attention. She turns her, and though Astrid kind of balks at first, she’s gone from feeling powerless and oppressed to one of the most powerful creatures in the world. The two become really good friends– Heather the mastermind, Astrid the muscle. Astrid’s protective of her maker, of course, so she protects Heather from any threats, kind of like a bodyguard. Heather teaches her how to stay under the radar, how to drink without killing, and they end up spending about a century together. 

After a while, Heather begins to feel stifled and wants some space. She urges Astrid to go off and find her own way. Though she protests at first, Astrid eventually agrees. She sails off to Industrial Revolution America and kind of settles into the wild west. Maybe it’s silly, but I love the idea of a Kissin-Kate, Quick-and-the-Dead esque Astrid. A lone, fast-drawing cowgirl that roams the country. Sometimes she’ll come across a kind gentleman interesting enough to share stories around a campfire with, and she’ll leave him alive. Sometimes she comes across wanted men and will turn in their corpses for bounties. And then once the twentieth century hits, and the first World War comes around, she signs up as a nurse. Again– the more bodies there are, the easier she can eat without being noticed. 

She ends up with her kind of moral crisis here. She was raised catholic, and she’s always been a little religious, but when she sees so many young men dying, she really starts to kind of consider her immortality and how it plays into her beliefs. It crosses her mind a thousand times when she sees an injured soldier suffering– _I could change him. End his pain._ Brave boys– practically babies from her two-hundred year old perspective– losing their lives to the petty violence of men. It breaks her heart, and she almost does it so many times. But she considers herself to be damned, religiously speaking. She thinks she’s going to hell. And she doesn’t want to condemn someone else to that fate. Not to mention, she has no guarantee that without a guide like Heather, these young men turned vampires wouldn’t become cold-blooded killers. So she abstains. Watches a lot of people die. Sometimes she thinks she’s hardened her heart against it, and then she’ll try to save a soldier that doesn’t make it, or she’ll see a child caught in the crosshairs of war. That kills her all over again. But every life she saves, she feels like maybe she’s a little forgiven. Maybe God will be merciful. Maybe there’s some balance, a killed to saved ratio that she can weigh in her favor to avoid an eternity in hell. But it never really feels like it’s quite enough.

Then, after the wars, she settles on the upper east coast. That’s always approximately where I imagine Berk to be, in the Pennsylvania area. It’s less of a strange thing for a woman to live alone, so she gets her own place, finds jobs here and there. She tries to put all the death and destruction out of her mind and live a quiet, detached life away from conflict. It’s a few decades of quiet and boredom and loneliness, and then Hiccup comes into her life. 


End file.
